Getting Over It
by SIZ
Summary: Or at least trying. George finds himself confiding in a familiar stranger, as he attempts to get over the pain of his brother's death. Mostly George's P.O.V.
1. St Mungos

_This is the first fanfic I've done in more than 2 years, and the first time I've ever written a HP centred one, let alone George x Luna. It was fun though, I forgot how much fun it is to write.. Anyway, I hope you like!_  
><em>I don't really know where this is going, but it's going to be fun finding out..<em>  
><em>George Weasley and Luna Lovegood both belong to J.K Rowling, as well as other mentioned characters.<br>**I think I'd better mention here that the great hall scene has based on the book version rather than the movie, just to stop causing confusion. **_

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><p>George slowly opened his eyes, squinting, and then clapped them shut again. A sudden pain shot through his head as he began to wake up. His arms and legs ached, and his senses told him he was not alone. Suddenly he remembered where he was.<p>

Opening his eyes again, this time prepared for the unnatural brightness of the room. George suddenly felt a lurch go through his body. The kind of feeling you got when you remembered something bad, but couldn't remember what it was. Nightmares? It would explain why he appeared to be awake before everyone else..  
>Roughly brushing a hand over his face, he propped himself up on his elbows and looked around at the other patients of St Mungos.<p>

There were some he recognised, and some he didn't. Cut faces, people with limbs in casts, and people like him, who just needed a rest really.. The only common factor was that most of these people seemed to be teenagers, people his age, and almost half of them with piles of battered uniform folded neatly next to their beds.

Hogwarts students. George's headache got stronger as he remembered what had happened the night before. The war, the screaming, the loss, the pain and eventually… the victory. As happy as he was that the battle was finally over, that people could finally leave their houses without fearing for their lives, there was a large emptiness inside him which overcame all the good things, making him focus on the negative. A bitterness that consumed him.  
>Fred.<p>

George felt the feeling within him grow deeper as he thought about that moment. When he walked into the Great Hall, and he saw Fred lying there. Motionless, grey, dead.  
>He remembered yelling, and the burning he felt inside himself when he'd seen his twin on the floor. The unbearable burning and how it pulsed through his body and made him feel sick. He didn't know how long he'd spent there. Kneeling at his brother's head, his mother sobbing beside him. It felt like hours, almost days until he was able to get up. Although it obviously hadn't been...<p>

George blinked, his eyes felt wet. He supposed he should be crying by now but it didn't feel right here. Not in this confined, clinical space. Surrounded by people whom half he didn't even know. He felt sort of guilty really, not being overwhelmed like the way he'd seen in films and not caring about what people thought of it. Sure he was sad, he felt terrible, worse than terrible. In fact he did feel overwhelmed but also strangely empty, and how that worked out he had no idea. He had so many feelings inside him that he thought they would spill over, but for some reason they didn't. He didn't feel good, he didn't feel bad. He just felt heavy and worthless, like part of him was missing.

The Great Hall had been so packed with students and families, and the infirmary so badly damaged during the battle, that people had needed to be taken elsewhere to be treated. So he had volunteered to be one of the escorts for the injured. In some ways he felt quite guilty, leaving his family mourning like that. His mother had been particularly insistent that he stayed. But all he knew was he needed to get away from that blasted place, away from the pain and the grief before he totally cracked.

Something shuffled to the left of him. Looking around he saw a girl standing quite casually in white, hospital pyjamas. Her long hair was curly and bright blond, her skin pale and smooth looking. Why was everything in this place so _white_?

"Hello, George." She chimed pleasantly, a light smile playing on her contrastingly pink lips. There was something strange about this girl. Why was she so familiar? And how did she know him? Whoever she was, she was making him feel uncomfortable, like she was looking right into him.

It was then that he finally recognised her. Ravenclaw girl. Ginny's friend. Seen her around quite a lot actually, had a reputation for being slightly mad. Went to Bill's wedding..  
>"Hello," He said, feeling a bit awkward. The girl kept her serene expression, but seemed like she wasn't really listening any longer. He supposed he took a long time to reply<p>

"I'm glad someone else is awake, I was feeling quite lonely by myself. But then I guess I should be used to that." She said softly. Even though the sentence was pretty depressive, the way she said it seemed different. She turned towards him again "I suppose hospitals have a way of making things seem more sad."

Even though this girl was strange, he could relate. The surroundings of the hospital were definitely affecting him, despite the stark brightness. He thought to himself a little until he realised they were meant to be having a conversation, which didn't really sound that bad right now. He needed to get his mind off things.

George looked her up and down again  
>"What are you in here for?" He asked. The girl looked at him again, she really was an odd sight.<br>"Nothing really. I had a few cuts and bruises from the fighting, but nothing too serious." She said "But they told me to come, so I did."  
>There <em>had<em> been a pretty big crowd; he guessed the teachers had wanted to be as safe as possible when it came to medical matters. "They have comfy pillows here." She said dreamily.

George gave a fake smile, though it disappeared in an instant. The girl still watching him, her own face still looking quite blank.

"You seem tired, George." She said, walking a little closer. George _felt _tired, but not in the normal way. He glanced at her again; now that he could see her closer she was quite pretty. Though still very odd looking..

He gave a large sigh.  
>"This is the slowest conversation I've ever had." He said bluntly, covering his face with his hands irritably. He felt like just giving up on everything... He didn't feel like pretending to be cheery anymore, he just felt frustrated. Everything seemed so long and boring without Fred, he felt boring. The blonde walked over some more and perched softly on the side of his bed.<p>

"I'm sorry if you find me boring". She said. The sentence sounded weird the way she said it, almost as if she was meant to be replacing something and she hadn't lived up to it. George looked at her through his fingers, and then took a deep breath.  
>"I don't find you boring." He said "I find myself boring." He wasn't sure why he was telling her this but she seemed to have a way of getting it out of him. The girl looked at him quizzically, but was silent. George looked down at her wrist<p>

'Luna Lovegood', was written on a band. He thought those things were only for people who needed operations, but maybe they did things differently here. Either way, it was nice to finally have a name to put to the face.

'_What a funny name'_, he thought to himself. The girl was still looking at him, but for some reason her stare wasn't making him feel uncomfortable anymore.'_Doesn't Luna mean something to do with the moon?_' He wondered to himself. He supposed it was appropriate. She was pretty moony-coloured.. George blinked lazily at his own thought, then looked back at her

"Fancy a walk?"


	2. The Plant Room

_George Weasley and Luna Lovegood both belong to J.K Rowling, as well as other mentioned characters._

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><p>George wasn't really sure why he'd asked her to walk with him, or why he wanted to take a walk in the first place. Were they even allowed to walk around the building like this? Shrugging it off, George turned his head once more to watch the girl, Luna, who was bouncing along quite merrily next to him. She was quite short, compared to him, but then again he was pretty tall.<p>

"I take it you're happy the war's over," George said, trying to block out the feelings it stirred in him. Luna's lips curved a little  
>"Oh yes. But I suppose everyone is, really." She said in her sing-song voice. George was starting to like the way she said things so cheerily.<br>"Yeah, but you're practically skipping" He commented jeeringly. He was beginning to feel a bit ashamed of himself for enjoying this, when really he should be back at Hogwarts or at home, mourning. Luna slightly tilted her head but didn't look at him  
>"I like skipping. I do it quite a lot actually, it's a lot faster than walking and also a lot more enjoyable."<br>George silently agreed as he looked ahead, trying to decide what corridor to walk down next. "People don't seem to like when I skip though, they think I'm mad you know."  
>He certainly <em>did <em>know. After reading her name he'd realised what people had been referring to when he heard mentions of 'Loony Lovegood' in the corridors and halls of his cut-short seventh year. It was strange that he hadn't recognised her sooner really, because now he could think of a number of instances when they'd crossed paths. Though he had to admit finding out more about her was entertaining him.

"Let's go this way." He said, turning left towards some large glass doors. The hospital was pretty quiet in itself, and it must have been fairly early in the morning because there didn't seem to be any other patients wandering around like themselves. It was almost eerily silent, bearing in mind the amount of light coming through the windows.

He got to the doors and was pretty surprised when they opened for him, expecting them to be locked considering the circumstances. Maybe they had forgotten to lock them within the panic of last night.

George looked around himself as he walked through the doors. Surrounding them was an array of different exotic plants. Some that he recognised from books, others that were totally unknown to him. Through the glass ceiling shone the sun. Magnified, making the air feel thick and humid. In a strange way it was comforting, like being surrounded by cloudy blankets.

"Wow." He said, honestly surprised this place had anything interesting. Luna's pale face looked around them before she added her own opinion  
>"It's quite pretty, isn't it? I wonder if they have any Dacknarts hiding in here." She thought aloud, skipping forwards and plopping down on a concrete bench. He didn't have any idea what she was talking about, but almost automatically the ginger boy followed, sitting down next to her, looking down at his hands.<p>

Before then, George hadn't realised it, but he was also wearing the same white hospital pyjamas as Luna. Not sure what to think about this, and wondering why and when he had put them on, he had to admit it made him feel a bit like a mental patient. Though it wasn't like he didn't already, with all the feelings battling away in his head.

He looked at Luna as her eyes pleasantly flittered amongst the plants, and then smiled softly  
>"We're a matching set." He said, not looking away as Luna looked up to face him, the corners of her mouth curling upwards in that serene way of hers.<br>"Yes." She said simply, agreeing with him. She glanced down at the ground for a moment while George dwelled upon things.  
>"We're like twins.." He said slowly. He wasn't sure why, but the statement had sort of tumbled out of his mouth. He found himself zoning out a little as he thought about it. The way him and Fred would wear the exact same thing, just to confuse people. '<em>It was part of their act', <em>as Fred would say. Luna looked at him again

"I'm sorry about your brother, George." She said gently, placing her delicate hand on his large, freckled one comfortingly. While George just looked straight ahead, mulling things over. "I know what it feels like to lose someone so close." Slowly he looked down at her hand on his, staring at it for a while, then looking at her herself. Wondering how many other people would say that once he finally made himself leave this place. And whether any of them would say it quite as soothingly and understandingly as she had. He smiled sadly  
>"Thanks, Luna." Luna's expression didn't change, just continued to look calm as she stared up at him in her Luna-ry way. He found himself staring back at her; her misty blue eyes were very absorbing. Usually he would feel pretty embarrassed in this sort of situation but this instance seemed different.<p>

He turned his head and fumbled the hand hers was rested on until he held her hand instead. Luna didn't make any movement, just looked up at him curiously as he began to speak again.  
>"I don't know what I'm going to do without him." He needed to admit it to someone, he needed to admit it to himself, and this seemed the perfect time. He bowed his head solemnly. "I should have been the one to die, Fred was always more exciting than I was, I just tagged along." He felt his eyes sting again as he continued. "I feel so empty." He took his hand back and covered his face, leaning his elbows on his knees. "I can't believe he's gone.." He mumbled into his fingers, his voice shaking a little<p>

"Yes, I know what you mean." Luna said, slowly. "I feel like that all the time, but I believe it's because he will never leave you, George. He'll always be alive, in your mind and heart." She said, cheerfully  
>"Why couldn't I be the one to die?" George blubbered, though the tears in his eyes stayed put.<br>"I think it's becau-" George interrupted her slow sentence  
>"Why couldn't it of been me?" His rage seemed to be overcoming his sadness as he thought about the situation "Why did he leave me?" He felt like a wimp, needing him this much. Realising how much.<br>Luna watched on carefully.

"I don't know what I should do." He said, not really understanding what he meant by that. "I don't know.."

"I find crying helps a lot." Luna said matter-of-factly. "I always cry when I remember my mother. And I suppose Daddy now, I've heard he's quite ill lately." George couldn't understand how she could say all this with such a cheery disposition in her voice. He couldn't really imagine her crying to be honest, it seemed strange.

"What happened to your mother?" He asked. Luna tilted her head again. He supposed he was being quite nosy, and felt guilty for asking, but she didn't seem to mind.  
>"Mum liked to experiment with spells a lot, and one of them went terribly wrong." She said, plainly. "I was nine.." She paused for a moment. "I remember feeling like you do. I still sort of do, really." She said, looking up at him and smiling sadly.<br>'_I'm going to feel like this forever?_' He thought to himself. Even though he was pretty sure he would anyway, the thought of it made him feel even more worthless.

"That's awful." He said, in response to Luna's story, and half because his own situation.  
>"Yes, it is really." She agreed, but still had that content expression on her face. "It's okay though, I know she's with me all the time anyway." He looked down on her again, then rubbed his eyes roughly. Luna continued smiling. "You don't have to be afraid of crying, George." He stared at the plants a little more, until suddenly, a massive bang sounded on the other side of the room.<p>

"What are you doing in here?" A strict looking nurse was yelling at them for the opposite doorway. "This section is not open to patients until 8am!"  
>"We're sorry, ma'am." Luna said, the nurse still seemed pretty annoyed<br>"Well, get a move on! Back to your beds, now." The nurse yelled, still standing in the doorway. "Honestly, people think they have a right to walk everywhere nowadays." She fumed, and left them alone again

George wasn't really one for rules, or being told what to do, but he supposed he should do what she said. The two of them got up, walking back the way they came silently.  
>"Thanks for the talk, Luna." He said, turning to her again as they came up to the room where they'd met in the first place.<br>"You're welcome, George." She smiled.  
>"What are you going to do now?" He asked, sitting down on his bed as Luna continued to walk the way she came.<br>"Oh I don't know. I'm not sure really, I might stay here for a while. I hear my Dad is in one of the wards here." She said casually, still walking away  
>"Oh, well, good luck." He said, and she skipped away happily round the corner. '<em>What a strange girl.<em>'


	3. Returning to The Burrow

_Not sure if I'm happy with this chapter.. I may change it later. At the moment it just feels like a filler.. Just a warning that this chapter may change completely within the next couple of days.  
><em>George Weasley and Luna Lovegood both belong to J.K Rowling, as well as other mentioned characters.<em>  
><em>

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><p>Later that day, George returned to The Burrow. He stood outside the door, wearing his old, shabby clothes, not really sure what would behold him when he opened it. He could hear voices inside, but it was a lot quieter than usual, eerily hushed. Taking a deep breath, he put his hand on the door handle.<p>

As he pushed the door open, he heard the occupants inside fall even quieter as they waited to see who it was. He found himself breathing in deeply, wallowing in the familiar smell of his home compared to the hospital he'd just been in. Stepping into the house with as much confidence as he could muster. For a minute he stood there, the eyes of his remaining family boring into him. His father came up behind him and put his heavy hand on his shoulder.  
>"Hello, son." He said, gently. It seemed that despite his worries, his family had eventually understood why he had to leave them at Hogwarts. But his mother was still shooting awkward glances at him.<p>

Slowly he walked over to the large table and plonked down heavily on one of the chairs. His brothers were looking at him strangely, while his sister sitting at the end nearest him smiled nervously.  
>"Hi, George." He looked at her but he didn't smile back. As his eyes travelled slowly round the room, he noticed Harry and Hermione also sitting at the table, looking awkwardly at their hands. Ron however, who was sitting next to them, was glaring at him. Hard.<p>

The awkward silence continued for a couple more minutes, the only noise the sound of dishes scrubbing themselves and his mother putting things in cupboards, until finally it got to him.

"You don't have to all shut up because of me, you know." He barked at them, uncharacteristically. Still no one said anything, until Ron stood up.

"Where did you go?" He demanded. Hermione looked on worriedly as him and Ron had a cold staring contest  
>"I went to St Mungos, if you must know." George was starting to hate himself for talking to his family like this, but it just seemed to be spilling out.<p>

"Why?" Ron yelled again, coming closer "You should have stayed with us. We're your family! Don't you even care?" As Ron started getting more loud, their father moved closer.  
>"Calm down, son, I'm sure he had his reasons." He put his hand on Ron's shoulder this time, but George said nothing. He was thinking about what Ron had said, his last sentence ringing in his ears. Of course he fucking cared.<br>The staring contest continued.

Eventually he stood up  
>"I'm going to bed." He mumbled irritably, and walked away from the table. Stomping up the stairs, he could hear his siblings whispering hastily after he'd left.<br>"Nice going, Ron!" His sister hissed angrily. A chair creaked as Ron slowly sat down again

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><p>Coming to his bedroom door, his hand lingered on the doorknob once again. He hadn't been here in a while; before the battle at Hogwarts he had been sharing a flat in Diagon Alley with his brother. But without Fred there he didn't feel like he could return. He was actually pretty surprised he was able to face The Burrow to be honest.<br>After just staring at it for what seemed like hours, he finally turned the doorknob and walked into the old room. It was exactly the same as him and Fred had left it, apart from some belongings, which had been put there for lack of a better place.

He looked around. There were scorch marks on some of the walls from experiments, and a pane in the window that had been temporarily repaired with a plastic bag. He remembered how much their Mum had yelled at them for that, and how much fun it had been in the first place. Everywhere he looked he could see remnants of what he'd lost.

He'd done a lot of staring that day. Taking things in seemed to be a lot harder than it usually was. After a while of standing in the threshold, he shut the door behind him and slumped on a bed. Fred's bed. Usually he would of chuckled at the rhyme but at the moment he was lost in his thoughts. He didn't feel like laughing anyway…

Lying down properly he looked at the ceiling. '_What am I gonna do now?_' He thought to himself, glancing out the window as trees blew around in the breeze. He couldn't hide in this room forever, although that was what he felt like doing. The world seemed too much at the moment, and not used to feeling as depressed as this, he didn't really know how to go about looking forwards.

He turned onto his side, his headache coming back again. He felt like a dumb kid. He felt guilty for being angry with his family, and he felt stupid for not being able cope with this. Squeezing his eyelids together, he tried to forget the world.  
>"I wish this was a bad dream." He mumbled to himself as he opened his eyes again, picking at the fluffy bits on a blanket. He felt like crying again, as much as he didn't want to admit it. Though it still felt like he shouldn't, that if he did it made him even weaker. So he held it in.<p>

"George?" The muffled voice of his sister travelled through the door. He didn't say anything. "I brought you some tea." Tea- the drink that fixes everything.. Or so people reckoned, he thought to himself sarcastically, hoping she'd go away.

Accepting she wasn't going to get an answer whatever the case, Ginny opened the door slowly, peeping her head round the corner. Silently she stepped inside the room, and padded across the wooden floor towards the bed he was lying on, trying to feign being asleep.  
>He felt a bit pathetic just lying there, trying to look convincing. And it obviously wasn't working because she hadn't left yet.<br>"George, I know you're not asleep." It sounded like she was getting a bit impatient with his pretending. "Sorry to tell you this, but you snore really loud." He didn't open his eyes.

Still holding the cup of tea, Ginny sat on the edge of the bed, shoving his legs out the way. He'd always considered himself close to his sister, but at the moment she was just annoying  
>"Leave me alone." He muttered, accepting that she wasn't fooled.<br>"We're all devastated you know, George. It's not just you." She snapped, harshly. George opened his eyes, her face was all puffy. "Why'd you leave us at Hogwarts?" She said the question a little more softly. He moved his eyes to stare at the ground.  
>"I needed to get away.." He murmured, his mind wandering. They stayed silent for a while.<p>

"The funeral's going to be on Sunday." She almost whispered. There was a pang in his chest. "Mum and Dad were worried you weren't going to come."  
>George continued staring at the floorboards. Just thinking about it was ripping him apart. Ginny watched his face carefully, but it didn't show anything. Just kept staring<br>"George?" The tone of her voice had that imploring, achey noise, as if she wanted him to show _something_. "George, please." She said, desperately. She put the tea on the floor, and continued to watch him.

His eyes flicked around the room as he thought of this. He would have to say goodbye, for real this time. He would have to let go. The last chance he'd get to see him, and then he'd be gone forever. Underground. To be eaten by worms.

The thought of it was making him feel sick. His brows furrowed against his will.  
>"I miss him so much, George." She said, trying to coax him into talking. Thoughts kept zooming around his head. It was for real now, he thought. He felt foolish, the full realisation of his brother's death dawning on him so late. Before it had all seemed a mysterious haze of guilt, now it was killing him from the inside out.<p>

Ginny's face had gone pink. He seemed so empty now, like the part of him that had made him George had died along with his twin.  
>"George!" She was almost yelling now in frustration, her eyes watering. "Talk to me!" She shook his shoulder roughly as he stared at wall.<br>"Ginny, what am I going to do?" He mumbled, barely audible. His face looked worried, and she started to feel guilty for pushing him to talk about it. She had never seen him like this before. It was strange..

"He was my best friend." He was still gazing at the wall.  
>"We'll get through it, George." She said kindly. "He'll never be forgotten." She put her hand on his shoulder again, gently this time. George began to sink into self-pity, his eyes were wet again, but still he didn't want to let go. '<em>Don't be afraid of crying<em>.' Luna had said. But that was the one thing he was afraid of. If he cried, then the pain would be lost, and strangely that was the one thing he wanted to hold onto. The last remnant of Fred's existence, the pain it left inside all of them.

Ginny got up from the bed, deciding to leave him alone for a little while.  
>"Your tea's here." She said, moving it from the floor onto the table next to him. He still didn't move. Sighing softly, she finally left the room, leaving her brother to marinate in his thoughts.<p> 


	4. The Next Morning

_For some reason I really liked listening to this while writing this chapter: .com/watch/?v=1Kf_6BWcOOg  
>George Weasley and Luna Lovegood both belong to J.K Rowling, as well as other mentioned characters.<em>

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><p>Despite going to bed at mid-afternoon, George hadn't got a wink of sleep. Since Ginny he hadn't had any more prying visitors. He'd had a knock on the door for dinner, but apart from that he had been totally undisturbed.<p>

His stomach grumbled. He hadn't eaten for almost two days, but he didn't feel hungry. He didn't feel anything. He was just thinking to himself, still staring at the wall. He wondered what it was going to feel like, moving after lying in this position for so long. He didn't suppose it would be very comfortable..

Birds started tweeting as the sun began to rise. They were so noisy, George thought. He had never heard it before, morning birdsong, and now he wondered how he'd slept through such a racket.

He shifted a little in his position, and wrinkled his nose. He smelled **bad**. A mixture of dried blood, dirt and salt. He was still wearing the same clothes from the war, and it hadn't helped that he'd slept, (or at least tried to), in them either. His hair also felt uncomfortably matted, though he didn't care as much about that.

George closed his eyes, trying to find the will to get up from Fred's bed. He hadn't moved yet and he knew he was going to feel stiff; he hadn't even gotten under covers. He'd just laid, fully clothed, on that itchy mustard-coloured blanket all night. He even had his shoes on

Slowly, he pushed himself up from the hard mattress, feeling extremely heavy. Sitting on the side of the bed, rubbing his face with his hands. Now that he'd gotten up, he wished he hadn't -That annoying headache rushed right back into his skull.  
>Wiping the sleep from his eyes, and stretching his arms, he tried to decide what he'd do next. Should he have a wash? Should he force himself to eat? Or should he just sit here and wallow in his stinky self-pity some more?<p>

Taking his shoes off and trying to stand up, he wasn't really sure why he'd made the decision to break out of his trance. Part of him felt he owed it to Fred, while the rest of him was just as confused as his tired brain was.  
>When he finally got up from the bed, he turned to face the door. Glancing at the stone-cold, untouched cup of tea from before, which had got a sickly grey colour.<p>

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><p>One advantage of getting up this early, George found, was that he got the bathroom all to himself. He remembered during his school holidays when getting time in the bathroom was more like a wrestling match than a daily routine. He turned on the shower. Stepping into the bath and taking the water full pelt in the face. Strangely relaxing, he thought, even if the water did keep wavering between temperatures.<p>

Drying himself with a rough towel, and deliberately avoiding looking in the mirror as he put on some clean clothes he'd found in a chest of drawers, he plopped back down on Fred's bed. Odd as it sounded, the bed seemed like some sort of connection.  
>"What should we do now, Gred?" He asked thin air, though it didn't feel like it. He sat there for a while.<p>

It was then that he heard some movement downstairs, sounded like cutlery. He glanced at the clock. It was only 6am, why would his Mum be up this early? He wondered. Perhaps she had trouble sleeping as well. It seemed plausible..

George didn't really know why he was being so logical with himself that morning but it seemed to keep his mind off of things. Sighing slightly he pushed back up from the bed and walked towards the door.  
>"Time to face the music." He muttered to himself.<p>

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><p>Slowly coming down the stairs the noise started getting louder. His Mum seemed quite busy, getting out some bacon while simultaneously controlling a duster with her wand. She certainly had the knack of multi-tasking down.<p>

Since he was only wearing socks, George made no noise on the cold, tiled floor as he walked slowly towards her. He was kind of glad the others weren't up as well; he didn't think he could deal with more awkward staring at the moment. Suddenly Molly jumped, surprised by her son  
>"Oh!" Some cutlery fell to the floor, she seemed quite on edge. Willing to get on her good side, George picked it up for her. "Ah, thank you dear." She said, nodding, taking the cutlery off him and dropping it in the sink, getting back to what she was doing before.<p>

A few moments silence passed as she busied herself, while he just sort of stood there, feeling a bit out of place. She glanced at him, obviously feeling the tension as well  
>"You're up early." She commented. George nodded, not really knowing what to say. What kind of world was it when you couldn't even talk to your own Mum?<p>

"How come?" She asked, obviously trying to strike up some kind of conversation. He shrugged  
>"Couldn't sleep." The silence grew deeper, as he watched her wipe the surfaces down. She could of easily done it with magic, but she seemed to want to be occupied. '<em>This is stupid.<em>' He thought, wanting to get to the point.  
>"Mum, I'm sorry I left you all at Hogwarts." He mumbled. He didn't often do this. "I j- I needed to get away." How many times had he used that excuse now? She looked surprised. While he wasn't used to offering apologies, she certainly wasn't used to receiving them.<br>"Oh. That's okay, dear." She said, getting back to her swabbing "I understand." She didn't though, he thought. Her tone seemed fake.

Deciding to elaborate, George leaned against the counter she was cleaning.  
>"It just felt so bad, staying there." This was hard to explain. "I needed to leave."<br>"I know, I know dear." She said, sounding like she wasn't really listening. It was kind of heartbreaking, really.  
>"I really am sorry, Mum." He said, searching for her response this time. After a while she stopped swabbing and looked at him.<br>"Oh, dear." She said, going up to him and hugging him tightly. It felt weird being hugged, after being in solitude for so long, he couldn't really remember the last time he had been. He willingly hugged her back though. As sappy as it sounded, it seemed to make the weight on his mind feel a little lighter. His eyes flitted towards the doorway, half expecting Fred to smirk round the corner and start calling him 'Mummy's boy'.

His mother pushed back away from him, and smiled warmly.  
>"Sit down, dear" He'd forgotten how much she used that word. Though he complied, sitting down at the now empty table. Just kind of waiting there while she scrubbed away, wondering what he could do.<br>"If you want to be useful, you could go get me some eggs." She said, plunking a basket on the table.  
>"Sure," He picked up the basket, smiling at her as he walked out the door, glad to have something decided for him for once. Molly watched him as he left, her smile fading. There was something not right about this.<p>

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><p>It had been over a year since he'd last gone in the chicken coop, but he'd never forget that disgusting smell you got whenever you opened the door. Bird shit and well.. birds. Gingerly grabbing some eggs, and trying to dodge stepping on any of the chickens, he placed them carefully in the basket. Walking outside again, he feasted his eyes on the view. All around him were fields and hills and trees, it seemed to go on forever. It felt good to be here after being in the city for so long. Not wanting to go back to the house straight away, he walked up the side of a hill and sat down in the grass.<p>

It really was a beautiful day, despite the atmosphere within his home. The sun was shining; the grass was green and it waved peacefully in the breeze. The birds from earlier still tweeting away.

"Hello, George." Surprised, he found he instantly recognised the voice.  
>"Luna?" He turned round to look at her as she plodded down the hill and sat beside him. What was she doing here?<br>"I live just a few hills away." She explained, sensing his confusion. "Well I used to. Since I left it's been destroyed." She said, sadly. Looking out across the view, though he kept his eyes on her.  
>"Oh." He felt a bit stupid. Of course she did. When they were younger he'd always remembered a little blonde girl Ginny was friends with. He guessed he hadn't really put two and two together. She smiled in that odd, whimsical manner, turning to what he was holding.<br>"Eggs," She said, as she looked at the basket. Remembering what he was doing, his head snapped back to look at them  
>"Oh, erm. Mum asked me to get them, she's making breakfast." He said, looking back at her.<br>"I see." She nodded. "You seem happier today, George." He felt a bit happier, but it was outweighed immensely by the feelings he'd tried to block out. But he wasn't going to think about that right now.

"Would you like to come to breakfast?" He asked, politely. He felt a bit sorry for her, while he had many other siblings and still both his parents to go home to, Luna was all by herself. Or at least he imagined so, seeing as her Dad hadn't followed her down the hill. He must of still been at St Mungos..  
>"I'd love to." She smiled, happier this time. "Thank you, George Weasley." He found himself chuckling at the way she said it.<br>"You're welcome."


	5. The Relapse

_George Weasley and Luna Lovegood both belong to J.K Rowling, as well as other mentioned characters._

* * *

><p>When George had returned to the house and explained Luna's situation to his Mother, Molly had accepted Luna with open arms. He had a feeling she would, his Mum was always quite passionate when it came to taking people into her home, as had already been demonstrated with Harry and the temporarily parentless Hermione. Rambling on about camp beds and sausages, she set herself busy with preparing the eggs he'd brought back.<p>

"Your Mother's lovely." Luna said, turning to him. He smiled quickly in silent agreement  
>"Sit yourselves down you two," Molly said, she seemed to be quite excited to have another person to take up her time. They did as she said, but something stuck out in the corner of his eye.<p>

The chair next to him, the one that usually contained Fred, felt unnaturally empty. He looked at it for a while, and against his will memories started suddenly rushing through his head. Trying to block them out, he looked elsewhere, but it didn't help. It was like a wall in his head had burst, and now all the things he'd been reminded of within that short space of time were spilling out. The jokes, the laughter, the way they could annoy their Mum to the point of insanity within a couple of minutes.

"George?" He looked down as he felt a coldness on his hand. Luna had put hers on his. "You're scratching the table." She whispered, looking at him and then back down at his fingers, light trails scraped into the surface. Shaking his head, he breathed in deeply  
>"Sorry, I don't know what happened to me there." He said, trying to sound convincing. But Luna looked at him with knowing eyes.<br>"I know it feels like you shouldn't be here, George. But it's not true." She smiled, taking her hand back.  
>"Well it sure feels true." He muttered, frustrated. What was wrong with him? What wasn't wrong with him? He thought he was better now, even though that thought was totally moronic now that he looked back at it.<p>

"Here we go," His Mum turned to them and put two plates of food down on the table in front of them. Luna smiled politely and picked up her fork, but George just stared at it. Just looking at it was making him feel ill. The pit of his stomach felt squishy while his mind felt like it was made of stone. Heavy, not feeling anything. He rubbed his eyes for fiftieth time that morning as he heard footsteps come down the stairs. What was he doing bringing someone else into the house? Was he trying to replace him? The thought made him want to vomit

"Thought I smelled something." His Dad had walked in, trying to act cheery. It wasn't working though. George continued to glare at his plate. He didn't know what was happening to him. He felt like a shell.  
>"I'm not hungry." He stood up abruptly, his chair scraping loudly across the floor. His parents and Luna watched him as he walked briskly back towards the stairs, almost jogging up them. He needed to get back in that room.<p>

Shoving the door open and slamming it shut behind him, he slid down the surface, crumpling on the hard, wooden floor. He felt so weak and worthless it was unbearable. Why hadn't he just stayed in bed? Why had he felt he could get over it after just one day? Why did he think he could get over it at all?

He laid there for a while, his head hidden in his arms.  
>If he could barely cope with a morning, what was he going to do for the rest of his life? He listened carefully; there still wasn't any noise in the kitchen. He must have made it pretty awkward when he'd stormed out.<br>For the rest of the day he just moped around miserably in their room, sitting on one bed for a matter of hours and then swapping to the other routinely. Subconsciously it reminded him of conversations, though maybe he was just going crazy.

Eventually it got dark outside. He still didn't feel hungry, and his mind felt way too awake to try and sleep, not that he wanted to anyway.  
>"I'm so stupid.." He mumbled to himself, staring blankly into space. He'd moved to sit by the door again, listening as people made their way upstairs to lie restlessly in their beds. He couldn't be bothered to turn a light on, so he just sat in the dark, the moonlight coming through the window and causing strange shadows to loom up the walls.<p>

* * *

><p>Over the next few days, more people came to visit him and try and coax him out of the room. The next day Ron came in to apologize, and the visit ended up with him sobbing and using George as his leaning post, as George just stared blankly ahead. Ginny visited often with cups of tea and a sandwich or two, but he still didn't eat. He couldn't eat. He just wanted to remember.<p>

His older brothers tried as well, crouching on the floor in front of him and telling him to talk to them. But what was there to say? He wanted Fred back.  
>Eventually his father even tried. Struggling to sit down on the floor next to him and putting his arm round him. Sitting there in silence as the minutes went by. His Mother however did not visit; she couldn't seem to bring herself to do it. And while Harry and Hermione felt bad as well, they also felt it wasn't their place.<p>

None of them understood, he thought to himself. Shouted at himself. Nobody understood, what it was like to get up and look in the mirror, and see the identical image of the person who had left him staring back at him. Nobody understood, what it was like to live for twenty years, constantly in the companionship of someone, even being born together, and then suddenly having that person being gone forever.

If he wasn't able to leave the room on his own, how was he going to accept the will of somebody else? He just sat there, glaring at that damn wall again. His stomach grumbled constantly now, and he kept passing out rhythmically, as his lack of sleep started to affect his mind. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was Fred, and he would wake up again.  
>He looked at the multiple cups of cold tea. His mouth was dry, and tasted stale. He should probably have something to drink but at the moment he didn't want to get up from the floor, he just wanted to stare.<p>

He wanted to kick himself for thinking that morning that he could of got over it so quickly, when really he had just pushed back the torment in his mind. Now he just wanted to soak in it, and let himself be taken in by the pain.

* * *

><p>Soon, it was the night before the funeral. Downstairs he could hear his mother bawling loudly, obviously having held it in since her sobbing at the Great Hall. People were rushing downstairs to comfort her, maybe cry with her, except George. Still staring, slipping in and out of consciousness, his eyes blurry.<p>

In what seemed like no time at all, it was morning. He sighed as he thought about how he would have to leave the room. He couldn't do it. Getting up once more in his restless fashion, he went over and laid on Fred's bed again. It had been a week and he still hadn't cried. He'd vowed not to, he wanted the pain to stay as a reminder. He didn't want to forget.

At 9am, the door behind him clicked open.  
>'<em>Here comes Mother,<em>' He thought, surprised that his mind's tone sounded so sarcastic within his head.

But the footsteps were light, making almost no noise on the creaky floorboards. His next thought was Ginny, but she would of spoken by now.  
>"You haven't eaten." The voice sounded concerned, but also quite light, like the footsteps. He continued to stare at the wall, why wouldn't anyone leave him alone?<p>

"The funeral's today, George." He knew that. He wasn't stupid. "You have to leave the room." He felt himself tense up as Luna touched his arm. "You have to do it. For Fred." Now he knew why she was there, no one else would be able to say that without blubbering. Although she did seem sad.

"I know it feels like you've got to let go of him, George. But you don't." She gently tugged his arm, but he didn't move. "I know what it feels like to be like this. I can help you." He wasn't even looking at her and he could tell she'd have one of those airy smiles on her face.  
>"I highly doubt it." His voice felt ragged, having not been used for a while. Though he followed as she tugged him again.<p>

Slowly she made him sit up, and stepping quietly towards the drawers, she picked up a pile of clothes she'd placed there when she came in.

"You need to put these on." She said gently, but firmly. Pulling him up to stand and placing the pile in his arms. Calmly leading him to the door, and silently pushing him outside.

The top floor, considering it was the middle of the morning, was abnormally muted. As if everyone was downstairs, waiting. Carefully leading him to the bathroom, Luna opened the door for him and pushed him inside.  
>"You need to wash." She said looking at him from the doorway. "You'll feel better." And with another small smile she closed the door.<p>

In some sort of sleepless, trance-like state that he didn't really understand, George went through the same process as the other day. He had a shower, he dried himself down, and put on the clothes he'd got given. Still not daring to look in the mirror. He looked down at the extremely black outfit, and then walked slowly towards the door again.


	6. Fred's Funeral

_**Haha, well that's embarassing. I tried to do a big proof read session this morning and I guess in my lack of sleep I botched everything up when it came to re-submitting the chapters. So some got all mixed up and put in the wrong order and all sort of things. Sorry dudes! I'm really silly sometimes, lol.  
>It should hopefully be all fixed now.. It's been sitting like that since this morning. -Sigh- I do myself no good sometimes haha. Thank the lord I went to check that spelling mistake otherwise I wouldn't of even noticed..<br>**_This was by far my favourite chapter to write so far, as you can probably tell since it's a bit longer than the others. Hope you enjoy reading this one as much as I did writing it!_**  
><strong>_George Weasley and Luna Lovegood both belong to J.K Rowling, as well as other mentioned characters._ _

* * *

><p>The rest of the morning was totally silent. Not saying anything the large group of family and friends made their way to the place they'd chosen for Fred's burial. He sort of felt like a robot... His legs were moving but it all felt automatic. In his head he was still in that room.<p>

The group finally stopped at the bottom of the orchard near the house. He remembered the two of them climbing trees here, and stealing apples. They used to stand on each other's backs in turn to shake the branches. And all the apples they couldn't eat after they'd stuffed themselves they'd race with. Chucking them in the river and watching them as they bobbed along on the current. Fred always won that game..

Near the spot was a small marquee, as they got closer to it, he noticed something prominently silhouetted against the canvas –The casket. As they all sort of queued up to say goodbye to him, George looked around at the inside of the tent. In a disturbing kind of way it sort of reminded him of Bill's wedding. Only with a lot less streamers and dancing. He could just hear Fred's voice making cheeky remarks  
>'<em>Love what they've done with the place.<em>'

To be honest, until then he hadn't imagined either of them having a funeral. And now that he thought about it, Fred would of probably wanted a lot more colour. He felt a tinge of regret for not trying to get more involved in the ceremony. If anything he could of made it a little more cheerful. Not because he felt like it, just because it was what his brother would have wanted.  
>Looking up, he realised the rest of the crowd were leaving the tent<br>"Give him a few minutes," He heard his Dad say as he ushered the bawling group out of the tent, finding it difficult to stop his own voice from wavering.  
>Percy was the last to leave. Sobbing his apologies and looking towards the coffin almost constantly as he tripped back to the entrance of the tent.<p>

Looking back over at the coffin, George swallowed. He walked up slowly and steadily, and as equally slowly, his brother's face came into view. For a moment he just looked at him, trying to take in every detail. The whisper of a smile that had previously been etched on his features seemed to have disappeared a little, his muscles lax and his freckles faded. He looked far too serious now. George wrinkled his nose. The outfit he'd been stuffed into didn't suit him either; Fred would never wear that shade.

As his eyes travelled up to his hair, which lay limp and dark on the white of the cushion supporting his head, he subconsciously felt his hand lift to brush a wisp off his face. As soon as his fingers touched that cold, hard skin, he felt his insides lurch. Suddenly tears were spilling down his cheeks, and with his face contorting against his will, and sobs forcing their way up his throat, George cried for the first time since his brother had left him.

The remorse, guilt and utter painfulness of the situation overcame him, and he cried the loudest he ever could. His face was sopping wet, and the back of his windpipe was burning. It was all real now; it wasn't all in his mind. His brother had left him. He'd abandoned him, and there was nothing he could do about it. He breathed in deeply, only for another wave of weeping to burst from him. He tried to speak, his words coming out mixed up and confusing  
>"Sorry… bastard. I.. I need you… Why'd you leave me…"<br>For what felt like years he leant over his twin's body and howled. He had no idea when it was going to end, crying the pain out of him.

In the background he could hear the others crying and sobbing as well, but at the moment he didn't care about them. All he cared about was that this was the last time he was ever going to see his brother, his best friend, his partner in crime, and they'd dressed him up in a bloody Lima bean-coloured suit.

After what felt like a lifetime, George lifted up his head from his arms, sniffing loudly. Surprising himself, his mouth broke out into a small smirk. Shaking his head, tears still flowed silently from his eyes.  
>"Look what you've done to me." He mumbled, sniffing again and wiping his eyes on the back of his sleeve, though it didn't help at all. Looking back at Fred's face, in a sort of creepy way the echo of the laugh seemed to be coming back. It was then that George decided, he was going to make his brother's death something to remember.<p>

Getting out his wand from his back pocket, the tip shook slightly as he touched it to his brother's clothes.  
>"<em>Multicorfors<em>," Smiling tearfully, he watched as a wave of colour seemed to flow from his wand, changing his brother's suit from the formerly putrid green colour into a deep magenta. It suited him a lot better in his opinion, and with this first step, he set out on his journey to make his brother leave with a bang.

"Bye, Fred," He smiled. "I'll miss you." And with a final look at his brother, George turned briskly and walked down along the makeshift carpet aisle. Waving his wand this way and that, splashes of colour seemed to form everywhere. His family stared at him gapingly as he walked past

"Well, you're all looking a bit gloomy." He smiled again, and with another flick his entire family (and friend's) outfits, turned the same deep magenta as he'd made Fred' suit. Looking all a bit dumbstruck, they seemed to eventually realise what he was doing. Catching his father's eye, he earned another grin. Aiming his wand at the trees, confetti flowed from the tangled branches. And turning to the stunned vicar, he nodded his head.  
>"If you'd please." He said simply, and the old man eventually started searching for his eulogy.<p>

* * *

><p>What had started out as presumably the second most miserable day of his life, had turned into one of the loudest parties ever to be held in Ottery St. Catchpole. His mother was grasping him, squeezing him tightly as she was overwhelmed with pride, sadness and happiness all at the same time. Seeing Fred, <strong>his<strong> Fred's coffin lowered underground had certainly, _obviously _been hard, despite all the colour that had surrounded him. But he was happier in the knowing that he'd made Fred's funeral one to remember, and one that Fred would've probably wanted to attend himself.

After the eulogy, and an improvised speech from George himself, his parents rushed to add their part to the celebration. His Mother gathering all the food she could from the house (along with the willing help of his siblings), and his Father setting up tables and choosing music from his muggle collection, looking genuinely like himself again as he tried to work out how to use a record player.

People came up to hug him and thank him for making the day a little easier. While any muggles that walked over to complain about the noise were intimidated away by Bill.  
>"George," His brother Charlie had said, happily slinging his arm over his younger brother's shoulders "I think this is the best idea you've had yet."<br>"Well, I was always the clever one." George joked, as he mentally felt Fred elbowing him in the chest.

As the dark of night descended, Hermione contributed by stringing lines of lights through the trees, and thanks to Harry's knowledge of muggle objects, they finally had music. Looking up at the masses of stars that were starting to emerge from the black, George almost jumped when a familiar set of footsteps crept up behind him.  
>"This is wonderful, George!" Luna exclaimed sounding genuinely elated, looking around at all the colours.<br>"Thanks," He returned, grinning. Looking at Luna, she suited the deep purple colour as well..

Not wanting to be caught staring, he turned back up at the sky. There was something missing that would make the ending of tonight perfect, but he couldn't really put his finger on it. Until suddenly, it hit him. After thinking about it for a moment,turning round again, he looked down at Luna.

"Luna?" He held out his hand, as the blonde looked back round at him again "Care to be my temporary partner in crime?" She smiled, her pale face sort of glowing in the light of the tree-lamps  
>"Of course, George." And with that, she grabbed his hand and pulling her with him, they spun and disapparated.<p>

* * *

><p>Tumbling into a confused heap, (it had been far too long since he'd last done that), the pair of them stood up as the dust blown up from the spinning died down around them, looking quite out of place in their formal wear. Luna was giggling to herself, obviously not that concerned with the slight queasiness, while George started walking forwards straight away.<p>

"Where are we, George?" Luna asked curiously as she looked at all the lit up windows. There was something familiar about this place but she couldn't seem to spot it. Still grinning, George looked especially happy to answer that question for her  
>"Diagon Alley!" He almost shouted, and still holding her hand, he pulled her to follow him.<p>

Even though George had thought he wouldn't be able to face the old joke shop again, now seemed more important than ever before. Breathing in the musky smell as he opened the door, he felt his memories wafting back again as he felt his way up the stairs. Only this time they seemed to be good, and not as painful as they had been before. Coming to a certain cupboard, he rubbed his hands together eagerly.

"What's in there?" Luna asked, trying to catch her breath from being dragged up the stairs.  
>"This, my dear Luna, is the fireworks storage." He smirked again, his cheeks were starting to hurt from the sudden workout, but he didn't care anymore. Opening the cupboard and piling fireworks into cardboard boxes, Luna helped him carry a good more than half out onto the curb.<p>

Locking up the doors again and coming to join her outside, George apparated with each box carefully to the location he'd chosen, and afterwards came back for Luna. Usually he would find this manner of back and forth tiring, but he seemed to be driven by some sort of force. Coming out of the squeezing sensation, Luna suddenly felt a cooling breeze hitting her in the face. Opening her eyes, she saw he'd apparated them to a hill  
>"Me and Fred always used to go exploring around this hill." He continued talking as he set up some of the fireworks "Thought it would be the best place."<br>"It's amazing," Luna said as she looked over the edge of the hill, seeing the distant lights of houses in the distance and the gathering they'd just been at. He gave a small smile as he finished setting up the first wave, and with his hands shaking slightly, he used his wand to set light to the fuses.

With an almighty noise, the first firework shot into the air, and then the others continued to follow. Luna looked up in wonder, as the sky seemed to be filled with sparks. Green, red and golden, making their way back to Earth again like rain  
>"Luna!" He yelled excitedly over the banging, pointing at the box next to her. Catching his drift, she started sorting out the contents, putting them in the same sort of patterns that he had done.<p>

The banging got louder, but it wasn't unpleasant. In some sort of deafening way, it was beautiful. More of the golden trails of magic traced themselves through the sky, some fireworks joined up in the air to create creatures, and some even flew back down to the scene of the funeral, flying around the crowds and causing a ruckus and cheering. The colours reflected loudly in George's face as the light bounced off the sweat forming on his forehead. He felt his eyes watering again as he looked up at the sky, the cheerful mess of sparks and popping staring back at him. Only this time he didn't hold back to tears, and let them fall silently down his face.

The display went on for an hour, after setting off most of them, him and Luna had just sat and gazed at the sky, admiring their handy work. As the final queue of sparks flew off into the black, George picked up the last firework out of the box.  
>"The finale." He said, grinning in that Weasley way, and letting the final one go he heard a silence descend upon the crowd below as they watched the concluding firework shoot into the air. With one of the loudest bangs, what seemed like a big messy cloud of colour seemed to form. But as the mess of flickers broke apart in the sky, he heard the crowd below start cheering again as they realised what it was.<p>

Up in the sky, a massive 'W' sat proudly among the clouds. Explosions and bangs emanating from it almost as regularly as the different spectrums of light. And for a while it remained there, reminding them of the good times.


	7. Xenophilius

__George Weasley and Luna Lovegood both belong to J.K Rowling, as well as other mentioned characters.__

* * *

><p>Over the next couple of weeks, George found himself still missing Fred terribly. Though he was happy to say it was in a different kind of way now. Instead of feeling as abandoned, alone and guilty, moping around in their bedroom all day. He occupied his time with his mind lingering on the good memories instead.<p>

He soon developed a subconscious routine of taking walks. Wandering around the hills and the little village, resting in places they'd rested before, every day eventually ending up at Fred's grave, where he'd just sit for a while. The exercise kept his mind off the sadness, and the recollections gave him a connection to the past. So even though he still found it hard to believe he was gone, he had the comfort of those little memories.

Sometimes Luna would join him, and in turn he would join her on visits to St. Mungos, where her father Xenophilius was still very ill, having still not got over the stress of being imprisoned.

Today was one of those days.

He watched as Luna slowly walked up to the bed of her father  
>"Hello, Father." Her voice had that light quality to it, but it still sounded quite solemn. He struggled to lift his hands to her face<br>"Luna! My lovely Luna.. Thank goodness you're safe…" He smiled blissfully, but Luna just frowned sadly  
>"I'm always safe. I visited you just two days ago, don't you remember?" She asked, worriedly. Her father just lied there though, his limp blonde hair spread out across the thick pillows.<br>"Yes.. yes of course, of course.." He mumbled, keeping one hand rested on her arm, as if she would be snatched away again at any moment.

Feeling a bit awkward just standing there, George moved forwards to stand next to her  
>"This is George." She said, signalling to him. "You remember him... don't you?" Xenophilius looked up a little at George, then after a while faced Luna again<br>"Thank goodness you're safe.." He murmured again, seeming to ignore George completely and still gripping her arm. Luna looked.. Well not like Luna. Her brow was furrowed and her usual smile had disappeared. It hurt to look at it, and for a second George wanted to shake Xenophilius for not being better. But instead he looked down, taking her hand in his. They seemed to have a bit of a habit of doing that now.

Luna still looked like she was about to burst into tears, while her Father just seemed to be at peace with her presence, as if he'd been worrying since the last time they'd came. He whispered soundly to himself  
>"Luna. My beautiful Luna.." He sounded ecstatic and tired, stroking his daughters arm as she stood there and moped. "Why do you look so troubled, Luna?" He asked, struggling to raise his head. "They're not here, are they?" His face seemed to contort into one of fear as he thought about the Death Eaters.<br>"No, you're safe." Luna whispered hastily, and putting her other hand on his, he seemed to calm down. "Please get better." She said it like a request, as her father stared dazedly at the ceiling.

As he continued to mumble to himself, Luna seemed to break down. Ripping her hand away she hid her head in her arms and cried on her father's bed. Xenophilius still staring deliriously at the ceiling  
>"Lovely Luna.. my lovely Luna" He garbled as he stroked his sobbing daughter's hair.<p>

It was a pitiful sight, really. The girl that had helped him so much when it came to his mourning, crying over her delusional father and he wasn't able to do anything about it.  
>"I'm sure he'll improve eventually, Luna." He whispered as he touched her arm, but she just cried harder. Needing to get it out.<p>

* * *

><p>Over the next few weeks, he and Luna continued to visit her father. As George had said he would, he did start getting better, though only by tiny advances. But the little improvements did perk Luna up a hell of a lot. She had literally squeaked when Xenophilius finally recognised George for the first time. And couldn't help smiling as he started listing a more varied line of creatures than he could when they first started visiting, even if she wasn't sure she herself believed in them anymore.<p>

"Thank you, George." She said one day, as they sat once again in the plant room. They had decided to take Xenophilius there as a change of scene, seeing as they had permission to move him around in a wheelchair from time-to-time. And also due to a slight curiosity to how much it would of changed since they'd been there last. It was certainly a lot more aromatic and colourful than last time, the flowers opening as the weather outside turned more summery. George looked over at her and gave a questionable smile  
>"For what?"<br>"For being right." She said, smiling back. George didn't really know what to say back to this  
>"It's your visits that are helping him, Luna."<br>"Yes, but you gave me hope, and I think that matters the most." She said, wisely. She glanced down at the floor and then back at him. Her shyness was sort of endearing  
>"Well you did the same for me.." He mumbled "I don't know what I would of done.. If.." Luna interrupted<br>"Yes, but you didn't have to back." She said insistently  
>"I would have done anyway." He said, softly. She really did have pretty eyes.<br>"And for that I want to thank you." Luna said, smiling. George didn't know if it was his imagination or not but he could of sworn their faces were getting closer, at least until her father coughed abruptly and they broke gazes instantly.

"Come on, father. We'd better get you back to bed." She said, jumping up from the bench and grabbing the handles on his wheelchair again. George found himself still in a bit of a daze, blinking a lot. Though Luna seemed fine, as she normally did.  
>"I think they have a colony of 'Liftees' in here, Luna." He said, importantly. "I swear, I've been here for Merlin knows long and I haven't had one chest cough till now!" Luna smiled pleasantly as she pushed him to the glass doors<br>"That's nice, dad." She said quietly, as she listened to his endless ramblings.  
>'<em>Great time for the bloody things to interrupt'<em>. George found himself thinking, irritably. Then shook his head. Getting back up from the bench and following her through the doors.

* * *

><p><em>I actually really like Xenophilius. As well as Luna, The Weasleys in general and Neville. Not really sure why really, maybe it's cos I find them relatable or something.<em>  
><em>Anyway, so today's chapter was a little fluffier, not much though ;) I wonder what the next chap will be like.. Feedback is always appreciated (: <em>


	8. Nightmares

__I think this is the most emotional thing I've ever written.. as far as rage goes anyway. I hope you enjoy, feedback is appreciated (:  
>George Weasley and Luna Lovegood both belong to J.K Rowling, as well as other mentioned characters.<em>_

* * *

><p>"<em>You alright, Freddie?" George asked his brother, watching as Fred turned his head to look at him from gazing at the Hogwarts courtyard below. George's vision seemed weird, everything looked <em>_a bit blurry.  
><em>_"Yeah." Fred said, trying to sound convincing, though he could tell from the unsure smirk he wasn't. He wondered if he had had that nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach for the past half an hour as well, as they'd watched the professors creating the magical shield over the building. He shut his eyes as if blinking, and then suddenly he felt like he was plunging through space, images spinning around him like a whirlwind of fire and pain. Immediately opening his eyes again, he instantly felt a sense of panic, and started scrambling around on the floor, searching for something._

_All he could think was '_Where is it? Where is it_?' Even though he had no idea what he was looking for. Until he saw it and grabbed the wand that had just got shot out of his grasp, exactly like during the battle. It felt real again. The gravel and grit pressing into his hand as he attempted to stand up before getting knocked down a second time, the slipperiness of the wood as he tried to grip the wand with cut fingers, the heat on his face from the fire around him, breathing in smoke and dust. A death eater in front of him was cackling, the sound muted. He couldn't stand up, his legs wouldn't work, and all he could hear in his head were explosions. Something crashed into the wall on the other side of the quad, his vision suddenly sharp. He saw a flash of red hair and felt a sense of guilt splash over him and then that was all he could see. Red. Just as it was about to consume his vision he shut his eyes tight again, and abruptly it was over._

George woke up breathing heavily. His hair was pasted to his face from sweating, and he glanced at the floor to see he'd kicked the covers off again. Even though he'd stopped lingering on the past as much when he was awake, obviously his imagination hadn't got the memo, because every night for the past two weeks, he'd woken up in the middle of the night due to nightmares. And this peeved George off particularly because even at the best times he could never remember his dreams, so why it had to start now he had no idea…

Giving one last irritated sigh, he picked up the covers from the floor, tried to get comfy and attempted to get back to sleep. Though the images of the nightmare kept flickering behind his eyelids. He felt bitter. He'd tried his hardest to help himself get over it and his twin's death was still bothering him. And in the back of his mind, he felt like it would go on forever. To be honest, the beginning of his nightmares he didn't mind as much, because they did actually feel like dreams, being able to talk to Fred again. But then they always turned bad.

* * *

><p>"<em>Wingardium Leviosa<em>" Watching carefully, George directed a slat of wood to drop gently in line with the other rafters. Luna had decided to surprise her father with the restoration of their house, but at the moment she was unable to get any experienced help with building. So he'd offered to help until she could find someone else who knew what they were doing. He yawned loudly and the slat fell off the rafters again  
>"Trouble sleeping?" Luna asked, coming towards him with a bucket full of nails. George glared at the piece of wood that had just fell<br>"How'd you guess?"  
>"Just a hunch." Luna smiled, and re-did the spell, succeeding better than he had. The Ministry had been very lax on people underage using their wands as of late, due to all the criminals they were still trying to round up. Which he supposed was a good thing at the moment.<br>"It's not my fault, it's these bloody nightmares." George muttered, rubbing his face roughly.  
>"Nightmares?" Luna asked, curiously. Her smile swapped for a look of intrigue<br>"Yeah. Just.. yeah." He couldn't think, the lack of sleep was catching up on him again.  
>"My father says nightmares can predict things." Luna said conversationally, lining up some of the nails in a row.<br>"Well these are based on the past, so I highly doubt that." He grumbled, he wasn't in a good mood. Luna raised her eyebrows and flicked her wand, the nails shooting upwards and fixing the slats above.  
>"I see." He hadn't meant to snap but he just didn't feel like being cheery. So instead he went round to the back of the remaining house to find more slats. He subconsciously rubbed his thumb over his fingers where the cuts had been in his dream. It had all felt so real, it was like he'd just fell out of a reality.<p>

* * *

><p>The next day was warm and sunny. George's palms were grubby from helping rebuild the structure of the house. Having felt bad about snapping at her, he'd tried to do more work that day than he had yesterday, though he was still having trouble focusing, and he kept getting splinters.<br>His mum had offered to lend him her (almost entirely unused) gardening gloves to stop it happening but there was no way he was accepting an offer to wear pink flowery gloves while he was still sane, or mostly sane anyway.  
>'<em>At least we don't have to build it from scratch like muggles.<em>' He thought, trying to be positive as he pulled out another splinter. He would of probably hit his thumb with one of those hammer things about twenty times by now if they had.

Glancing sideways, he saw Luna sitting in the grass. She was looking up at the sky and trees. Seizing the chance to look at her without her noticing, he mentally decided she was probably the only girl who could pull off dungarees and a messy ponytail that well without it being intentional. After a while he resolved he was gazing a bit too much, so he chose to stop being weird and went to sit down next to her.  
>"Hey, Luna." He said cheerfully as he settled down in the grass. Luna looked like she'd sort of forgotten he was with her<br>"Oh, hello." She said, albeit a bit awkwardly.

They sat there in silence for a moment. He wondered if he was the one that had made it uncomfortable yesterday, when he had got annoyed. Maybe he'd sounded more harsh than he'd thought..  
>"It's nice" He smiled, nodding towards the view. Luna nodded as well<br>"Yes." They sat there again, in silence.  
>'<em>Well, great. What have I done now? The one person who has been pleasant to me all this time, and I get moody 'cause of a dumb bad dream. Great.<em>' He found himself frowning as he thought this. He could really be a right twit sometimes...

"The birds are really energetic this afternoon." Luna said airily, though not as blithe as usual.  
>"Heh, yeah. They are." He smiled. '<em>Stupid birds.<em>' George didn't really like birds much as of late, they always seemed too loud. Especially in this situation, where they were just making the silences seem longer. He started pulling out tufts of grass as he tried to think of stuff to say. He hadn't really experienced this before, not being able to talk to someone. Unless he counted the time he tried to apologize to his Mum the day after he came back. He'd always prided himself on being quite a smooth talker; at least he had when he was still co-running the joke shop. He wasn't really sure what he was going to do about that..

"Was it painful?" Luna asked suddenly, snapping him out of his thoughts.  
>"Erm, what exactly?" Did she mean the splinter?<br>"Your ear. Did it hurt when it got cursed?" She turned to him, she looked genuinely interested. He didn't really know how to answer.  
>"Sort of I guess. It kind of felt like pins and needles at first, and then it just hurt like hell. But after a minute the bleeding numbed it." No one had honestly asked him that before. Luna seemed satisfied with his answer though<br>"Oh." She didn't sound surprised, it was more like she was taking his answer into account.  
>"Why, exactly?" He asked, curiously.<br>"I was just wondering if it hurt the same way as the cruciatus curse." She said looking back at the grass. "That hurt a lot sometimes." George hadn't been expecting this, and just found himself sort of gaping at her.

"L-Luna you never told me you had the cruciatus curse used on you." It felt like something was swelling inside of him, like he wanted to hurt the person who'd done it to her. A lot.  
>"Oh yes, at Malfoy manor." She continued, still looking at the ground, then she flicked her misty eyes up to look at him again, his face aghast. "I thought you knew." She said, honestly.<br>"**MALFOY**?" George felt like he was about to explode. He'd only been standing about ten feet away from that greasy little creep while Voldemort had been reciting his speech about joining the dark army and whatnot. Now he wished he'd pounced on him and strangled him or something. "I swear, if I see any of them again I-"  
>"Oh, it wasn't them." She said hurriedly, raising her hand. "It was Bellatrix. The house was being used as headquarters. You see, Bellatrix was Draco's mother's sister."<br>"Oh," The anger in him died down a pinch, but not much. He still felt like punching someone in the face. Draco could of done something other than just stand there after all, he could of helped, rebelled. Though soon George smiled, in spite of his inner feelings. "Bellatrix for an aunt, eh? I bet she gave interesting Christmas presents."  
>Luna giggled, though it seemed she had mixed feelings about it as well. Which was understandable.<br>"Yes." She said, a sad smile on her face, though she was still looking down at the grass. He glanced at her hands as she fiddled with her wand, seeing things he hadn't seen before, and was quite ashamed he hadn't.

"Luna, your fingers." He shuffled closer, on the palms of her hands there was shiny burns and faded cuts. And as he looked up her arms, he could see the faint remnants of some on her skin there as well. He felt rude for staring but he couldn't honestly help it, how could someone do this to a person like Luna? He looked at her face imploringly, and then he saw something else.

On the line of her cheek, there was a faint red mark. You wouldn't of seen it if you'd glanced at her, to notice it at all you would have to be _looking_ for it. But it was there, and it was all he could see now. He felt himself clench his fists and grind his teeth as he stared at it. Luna's sad smile wobbled as tears started to well up in her eyes.  
>"I-it's nothing really. Your brother Bill helped me heal them. I… I'm better now." She sounded like she was trying to convince herself. Questions rushed through his head.<p>

Why had they done this? How could they hurt her? Where could he find the Malfoys so he could personally give them a sense of his gratitude, for allowing beloved Aunt Bellatrix to harm her like this? He glared at it, and then he looked at her in her eyes again, which now looked like they were about to spill over. Other questions preoccupying his mind now  
>How could he of thought he was the only one with problems? Why had he stood back and allowed her to help him but not helped her in return? Why hadn't she told anyone before… Why hadn't she told him, so he could help her?<br>Without really thinking about it, he moved a hand up and brushed a curl out of her face.  
>"I'm so sorry." He mumbled. And with this she finally lost it and buried her face in her hands. He instantly pulled her to him, hugging her tightly as she sobbed. Wanting to, needing to comfort her. It felt like his fault.<p>

* * *

><p><em>I watched Death Hallows part 2 again yesterday and when I saw that bit when Fred and George are on a balcony or something, I couldn't help wondering if George thought about that moment after the battle. Which is why I decided to include. The movie was definitely a lot more powerful the second time round.. sadder too.<em>


	9. Gravestones & Dusting

__This chapter isn't very interesting :/ I don't like it, haha. But still, hope you enjoy~  
>George Weasley and Luna Lovegood both belong to J.K Rowling, as well as other mentioned characters.<em>_

* * *

><p>George breathed in deeply as he savoured the refreshingly cool weather of August. It was still technically summer, but you could tell autumn was coming. As always, George had walked down to Fred's grave, and leaned next to one of the trees, not wanting to get wet from sitting down on the dewy grass.<p>

"Hey, Fred." He said as a couple of pigeons flew hurriedly out of the branches, while he continued to look towards his brother's grave. He stared at it for a moment, and feeling a bit distant walked a little closer  
>"Been thinking about re-opening the shop. Christmas is a few months away, I think it would be good for business." He said this and paused, as if thinking of what Fred would respond with.<p>

"Last time I went in there though, I couldn't tell at first because it was dark, but I think it's got pretty dusty. When I looked at my fingers after setting off your fireworks they looked really dirty. I think it must have been from the banisters.." He paused again.

"Do you remember how long it took us to siphon all the dirt away when we first bought the place? Even when using magic. Imagine what it would be like to have to clean it the muggle way," He smirked to himself. "Would have taken weeks…" He mumbled as he thought about it.

"Never guess who I saw the other day- Oliver Wood. He seems well but he's got these nasty gashes on his left arm from the battle. They don't look like they'll heal, probably dark magic. I should know." He said, smirking again.  
>"Remember when he used to wake us up stupidly early to go to Quidditch practice? I swear, we fell off our brooms half the time due to tiredness." He said grinning, amused by the memories. He seemed to be his happiest when doing this.<p>

"I think I need to start bringing a chair or something when I come to visit you, this wet grass problem is really getting a bother, ya' know." George said, shifting from foot-to-foot, his shoes glistening from the damp.

"Luna's dad is improving; he's making more sense than usual. I don't know what those death eaters did to him but they messed him up bad. Made hardly _any _sense when we first started visiting him.. No, I don't go on about her too much. Shut up." He said abruptly, knowing what Fred would probably be saying, or more rightly, teasing him with right now if he had a chance.

George could of spent hours there just talking to the headstone. It felt like he was speaking to Fred again, only this way round it was_ him_ who was contributing more of the chitchat. Going on about things he was thinking about, what had happened since last time... It was somewhat therapeutic. He even talked about the nightmares sometimes, but not too much because it just made him feel worse.

* * *

><p>The next day, after thinking about it for a while the day before, George decided to visit the shop again. He walked outside and pulling his coat around himself tighter, he apparated into the windy air.<br>Walking into the shop a few moments later, and this time switching the light on when he did, George found that he had been right. Over everything there seemed to be a thin sheet of grey. But apart from that it didn't seem too bad. He couldn't see any evidence of attempted break in, or death eaters searching the place, which was good. Taking off his coat and jacket and rolling up his sleeves, George decided to get to work.

It took quite a few days to get the place completely dust free, despite using magic for the entirety of it. (He began to ponder on asking his mother for tips.) He found himself trying to get it as clean as possible, perhaps just procrastinating before the real work.  
>He stood on boxes and tried to reach cobwebs, crouched down and stuck his wand under gaps, and went over the dark wood on the floor more than a few times. Eventually, though, he thought he'd finally got most of it, and decided to go about the next step of his plan. Only thing was, he wasn't really sure what he would do next.<p>

"I guess I ought to send Verity an owl," He muttered to himself, glancing at the checkout. "I'll need someone to help out with the till…" Though suddenly his train of thought came to a stop. If he could remember rightly, Verity had been a muggle-born. Would she even be alive now? He'd heard some terrible things about what had happened since him and Fred had gone into hiding.  
>George swallowed. He hadn't known her that well but he was her employer after all, it felt a bit strange, if quite depressing to think about.<p>

Deciding he'd finished for the day; he locked up and stepped out into the cold street again, his cheeks burning slightly from the sudden change of temperature, on the way home going through options in his mind.

_'I could ask Ron I suppose. I mean I was going to ask him anyway, but not for the till. He'd be useless at money. Plus he's buggered off to Australia at the moment with Hermione so that's not really an option anyway… Could ask Ginny, but I don't think she'd like being stuck in a store all day. She gets bored way too easily. Plus she's all over Harry at the moment, and I'm not having them snogging behind the shelves.'_  
>He grimaced at this thought. As much as it was nice they were together, having it shoved in his face wasn't exactly ideal.<em><br>'Charlie's gone on holiday with his mates… Mum would be way too enthusiastic, she'd probably end up giving out freebies all the time to the younger ones. Dad would… well I don't think he'd be good with money either.'  
><em>When it had come to inheriting qualities, Ron had definitely inherited his father's mathematical ability, or rather lack of.

After a few moments, he was standing on the doorstep of The Burrow again. Half-heartedly he walked up to the door  
>"I talk to myself way too much sometimes." He sighed loudly as he opened the door<br>"You do, you know." A small voice said as he opened the door, he looked over at a nearby armchair to see Luna reading a book, facing the opposite wall. "Quite loudly, too." She said, looking around and giving him a small smile. Then it hit him, and grinning while he took of his shoes and coat, he slowly approached her.

"So, Luna. Got anything planned for August?"


	10. Confetti

_This chapter was fun, muahahaa  
>George Weasley and Luna Lovegood both belong to J.K Rowling, as well as other mentioned characters.<em>

* * *

><p>"And then those need to go over there,"<br>"Okay."  
>"And then those over there… there."<br>"Right,"  
>"And then those… erm. There." George pointed vaguely in the direction of some shelves, then ticked another item off his list.<br>"Where?" Luna asked, looking round  
>"There," He said, actually looking where he was pointing this time<br>"Oh, okay!" Luna said, placing a box of 'Spectrum Splashers' on one of the surfaces.

"And then-" Suddenly there was a yelp and a crash. Looking up quickly from his clipboard, he saw Luna sitting awkwardly on the floor with a dazed look on her face, covered with the contents of one of the 'Confetti-bombs'. Not being able to help it, George let out a loud snort and doubled up laughing as he tried to walk over.

Grabbing her hand, he helped Luna get up, while she tried to get the coloured bits of paper out of her hair.  
>"George, you're laughing…" Where other girls would of sounded a bit peeved, Luna sounded happy, and a bit surprised. George calmed down a little but still had a massive smirk plastered onto his face<br>"Oh... Merlin. Luna, you should have seen yourself." He mumbled incoherently as he tried to stop sniggering, and somewhat failed. Luna looked up at him smiling, drinking in his expression as he laughed for the first time in four months.

Finally he seemed to compose himself, though he still had a massive grin on his face.  
>"You've got a little.." George gestured towards her hair<br>"Oh," Luna lifted her hand to try and find the piece of confetti  
>"I'll get it," He said kindly and brushed the paper carefully out of her hair, making Luna turn a little pink. "Lets get back to work, eh?" He smiled and siphoned up the rest of the mess from the accident with his wand. Then tucking it back is his jacket, picked up the clipboard again.<p>

* * *

><p>"Thank you for coming to 'Weasley's Wizard Wheezes', hope to see you again," Luna smiled and handed a boy his goods. Saying goodbye the boy left happily, ogling at what he had just bought.<br>"It's a good thing Hogwarts isn't rebuilt yet or I'd of lost all my business by now." George smirked from the above level. Luna raised her eyebrows at him questionably, and then turned smiling to the next customer.

It had been about a month since they'd reopened the shop. They had been very surprised to see customers flock back almost as soon as they'd opened the doors to the public, and George was glad he didn't have to manage it all by himself.

"Where are these meant to go?" Asked Ron as he wandered out of the store cupboard, carrying a cardboard box of 'Peruvian Instant Darkness' powder.  
>"You be careful with that." George said pointing at him, and then at a shelf down on the ground floor. "It goes there. Don't drop any." Ron rose his eyebrows at the strict tone<br>"Alright, alright, keep your hair on." He mumbled as he walked carefully down the stairs and set it down gently  
>"You're a new employee, Ronniekins. Got to keep you on your toes!" George called from his spot on the top level, smirking as Ron shot him a glare<br>"Bet you weren't this harsh on your _girlfriend_.." Ron muttered quietly to himself as he began splitting up the product into bowls  
>"What was that?" George yelled again<br>"Nothing!" Ron lied

"Have a nice day!" Luna said pleasantly as yet another customer left satisfied. It was past lunch hour and the groups of people were thinning a little.  
>"Ron, I told you to stack those up." George said, pointing towards a shifty looking pile of 'Lucky Dip' boxes.<br>"I did!"  
>"You call <em>that<em>, stacking?" George said with an incredulous expression plastered to his face as he continued to point.  
>"But I did! Someone must have knocked it."<br>"Well then do it again." George retaliated. Ron huffed and stomped over to the surface. George smirked "I'm not paying you for nothing, Ron." Ron rolled his eyes  
>"When are we going to eat? I'm starving." He said as he finished the job, dragging himself up the stairs<p>

"I suppose we could now. Go lock up the doors and we can go in the back room."  
>"Me? Why can't Luna do it? She's still downstairs and-"<br>"Just do it." George snapped bossily and walked into the back room as Ron grumbled and stamped down the stairs again.

* * *

><p>Luna giggled quietly at Ron's peeved looking face, as George's eyes flicked between both of them, smirking. Ron however, wasn't amused<br>"So unfair. I swear you give me all the stupid little jobs, why can't she do some too?" He grumbled as he took a bite out of his corned beef sandwich.  
>"She has a name, Ron." George pulled a face. "And no need to get touchy, Ronniekins, Luna works on the checkout. Don't you think it would be a little silly to get her to do your jobs as well?" He grinned as he took a bite out of his own sandwich while Ron made some sort of grunt at his remark.<p>

"I don't mind doing some jobs as well, Ron could look after the checkout and-" Luna started but George held up his hand  
>"I don't even what to think about what kind of chaos would ensue if I let <em>Ron<em> run the check out." Ron dropped his sandwich on his plate again, giving George a feigned hurt expression  
>"What? I would be fine!" Ron said, his voice high<br>"No. You would professionally bugger it up, that's what you would do." George said as Ron looked at him disbelievingly  
>"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm fine with money, no trouble at all."<br>"Now you're just starting to sound like Dad." George smirked as Ron's ears started to turn red  
>"Shut up!" Ron huffed as he picked up his sandwich<p>

George's smirk stayed put  
>"I'm only teasing, Ron. How's Hermione?"<br>"Sh-She's fine." Ron said, sounding sort of confused  
>"Oh, fine is it. That's what they call shrieking so loud the whole hall can hear." Ron's face turned into a very odd mix of pride and embarrassment, the red in his ears spreading to the rest of his face. Luna was finding it difficult to keep the corners of her mouth down<br>"Oh shut up, not in front of Luna."  
>"I bet Luna heard it as well." George said, glancing at Luna eating opposite him. "And Mum." Ron looked at Luna and then back at George, and then again at his sandwich. He seemed to have given up and was slumping in his chair<br>"Shut up." George smiled and put an arm round his little brother's shoulders  
>"You're too touchy, Ron. I was thinking of giving you a pay rise actually, so you could get her something nice." Ron was surprised by his sincere tone<br>"R-Really?" George nodded. Luna looked at both of them, kind of touched at the relationship. "Brilliant," And George smiled as Ron continued to eat the rest of his sandwich, looking efficiently perked up.

* * *

><p>"Oh, Ron!" George heard Hermione gasp from the sofa; sounding quite surprised.<br>'_**What the hell did he buy her?**_' George thought to himself, a little panicked that he could of put rash ideas into his brother's head.  
>"It's lovely, thank you!" He heard Ron's muffled voice as she strangled him in a hug, she then rushed off<br>"What's he done?" Ginny said, sounding a little sceptic, Hermione stopped in front of her, beaming. She held up something glittery  
>"Oh Hermione, it's beautiful."<br>"I know!" Hermione squealed. Having enough of this George decided to get up from his chair and see what they were all talking about, as Ron looked incredibly proud of himself from the sofa.

"What is it?" George said trying to look over their shoulders; Ginny turned to him  
>"Ron bought her a necklace." Ginny said, a small smile on her face. Hermione looked ecstatic<br>"Oh I see," George said, winking at his brother when they weren't looking  
>"Let me help you put it on," Ginny said, and made Hermione turn round. Hermione looked like she was finding it hard keeping still. It was nice seeing her this happy, usually she just looked content most of the time. Hermione turned round again, still smiling<br>"Well?"  
>"It looks wonderful." Ginny said truthfully, smiling again at her friend. Luna looked over from her chair, where she was playing a weird game involving a pack of cards<br>"It looks very nice, Hermione." She agreed. George spied her sending a look at Ron, as Ron sent a grateful one back  
>'<em>I wondered how he could picked something that nice out<em>.' George thought, amused.

"Molly! Look what Ron gave me!" And Hermione rushed into the kitchen, immensely happy.  
>Luna looked at George, catching his eye<br>"We make a good team, Luna." George said. Luna nodded  
>"Yes." She smiled.<p>

* * *

><p><em>Had fun writing the different characters in this one. I don't think I've really wrote Hermione or Ron to that extent before, so that was cool :D<em>  
><em>Hope you liked~<em>


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